


Sharing Umbrellas

by britishparty



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:38:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4365128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishparty/pseuds/britishparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will did not sign up for this. Absolutely not.<br/>But he can't seem to argue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Umbrellas

"Oh god, please don't be late."  
The man sharing Will's umbrella peered off into the rainy distance, guitar half-tucked under his jacket and his arms wrapped firmly around it.  
"Sorry, where are you headed?" He turned to Will, desperate for some reason still unknown.  
"Er - home," Will answered stupidly, staring at him in surprise.  
"Home," the dark-haired stranger repeated blankly. He said distractedly, "I'd love to go with you, but I'm actually supposed to be meeting up with my band - we're playing in a café this evening but I wasn't expecting it to rain."  
"And why did you decide to take shelter under my umbrella?" Will forces himself to ignore the way he's already tipped his umbrella to cover the man better than it covers him.  
"Can't get the guitar wet," the stranger explains, "and I don't know where the case is. Probably Leo's house, if anywhere," he adds as a note to himself. "But anyway," he plows on, "would you walk me? I was running in between umbrellas but I've run out." He gestures at the empty, rainy haze of sidewalk ahead of them.  
"I mean - I could but -" Will scrabbles to make sense of the man's quick speech, trying to form a response, anything.  
"Good!" The man cuts in before Will can give an actual answer. "Thank you so much!"  
He immediately steers Will to the left, taking a turn that brings them farther from Will's home. "I'm Parv," he says cheerily, giving Will a wide smile.  
"William Strife," Will says, startled, and offers his hand as he always does.  
Parv stares at his hand for a moment before returning the handshake. He looks incredibly awkward, and Will can think of nothing that would make him look more out of place.  
Except for a suit. He’s positive Parv would look terrible in a suit.  
"Wait." Will stops walking, and Parv has to stop or risk getting his precious guitar wet. Will peers at him curiously. "Why do I have to do anything for you?"  
"An act of kindness?" Parv suggests.  
"No," Will snaps, and begins to turn around. "I don't have to help you. I'm going home."  
Before he can escape, a thin, pale arm reaches out and plucks the umbrella from his hand. Will wheels around, a furious retort on his lips, but it dies as he sees that Parv is watching him expectantly.  
"What?" He demands.  
"I'm a gentleman," Parv says with a grin that is not at all gentlemanly. "So I'll carry the umbrella."  
He turns to keep walking, and Will is tempted to just give up the umbrella and go home, soaked or not. On the other hand, he likes this outfit and -  
And, well, Parv might be rude but he isn't without looks.  
Will takes a few quick paces to catch up to Parv’s long legs, the corners of his mouth twitching down as he looks up to the taller man.  
“What’s wrong, Strifey?” Not only is the nickname absolutely infuriating, Will refuses to admit he’d been about to make a comment on Parv’s height.  
“Don’t call me that,” he says, a little too sharply, focusing on the sidewalk ahead of them. “Where is this café anyway?”  
“It’s just around the next corner,” Parv says cheerily as they stop by a crosswalk. “You should stay and listen to us.”  
“No thank you,” Will says quickly. He is absolutely not going to stay and listen - he has a report half-finished in his bag that has to be turned in tomorrow morning, and he’s not sure how long it’s been since he’s slept properly.  
“But Stri-i-ife,” Parv whines, looking down at him with ridiculously big puppy-dog eyes that have never worked on Will and never-  
“Fine,” Will finds himself saying before he even thinks about it, “but only one song, okay?”  
“Yes!” Parv grins at him. “But if you like it, promise you’ll stay for another one?”  
“No,” Will protests, “staying for one song is enough.”  
“I’m sure you’ll like us,” Parv says with an overly confident grin that looks altogether way too good on him.  
“I don’t really listen to much music,” Will comments to himself.  
“Why not?” Parv frowns at him, puzzled. “It’s fun!”  
“I just don’t have the time,” Will says with a shrug. “I’m a busy man.”  
“You don’t listen to music while you’re busy? Like when you’re walking around the city trying to get home?”  
Parv,” Will says tightly, “it’s dangerous to walk around with headphones on.”  
“Is it?” Parv pauses to consider it. “No, not really,” he decides, and presses on.  
He stops suddenly outside a small building with a small neon sign in the window, and grabs Will’s hand. “Come on,” he says, dragging Will in before he can make an excuse to run.  
It’s a small café, smaller than Will thought it’d be, and a lot more crowded. It’s not the nicest place - not by a long shot - but Will has to agree that it’s sort of welcoming in its own way.  
The people here are a crowd Will’s never really mixed with. He can spot a few laptops in the corner - video games, perhaps, certainly never people writing reports for their jobs - and a table with a few people wearing too much makeup, and are those people honestly trading playing cards.  
“Come on,” Parv urges, pulling him past crowded tables and to the counter. Will barely notices when Parv orders him a mug of hot chocolate - hot chocolate, he’s not six - and grabs the drink and Will’s arm, pulling him over to a table by the window.  
“We’re on in a few minutes,” Parv says, checking his phone screen, where Will can see a list of furious texts. “Stay here, okay? But come running if-”  
He’s cut off as a figure bursts out of the backroom door and comes charging over the stage and towards Parv.  
“Parvis!” He yells. “Get your ass over here!”  
“Hey, Kogie!” Parv - Parvis? - greets him cheerily. “I was just settling Will down.”  
"Will?” Kogie glances at the blond, and then at the umbrella next to him. “Oh, you walked him today? Thanks,” he adds, and then grabs Parv’s arm and drags him off backstage, ignoring the whines and protests.  
Today? Will can’t help but feel a stab of jealousy. Is he not the first to get dragged down here by Parvis?  
He waits patiently until the band - he doesn’t even know their name - wanders onstage, and Parvis flashes him a too-confident grin and god it makes him look good.  
The singer announces the song’s title - something about lights - but Will finds it hard to look away from Parv’s face. He’s focused for once, concentrating on his hands and the words and shutting everything out.  
Will’s not sure how many songs they’ve played at this point, but he knows it’s been ages since he’s had hot chocolate, since he’s listened to anything but elevator music, and the mug is warm in his hands and the murmur of voices beneath the song is oddly comforting.  
He’s not entirely sure what time it is when he wakes up, and the feeling of peace he has is too nice to bother checking his phone. Instead, he flicks his eyes over the figure sitting across from him.  
“Parvis!” He exclaims, jolting awake in surprise. “Oh god, how long was I asleep?”  
“A few hours,” Parv tells him, grinning. “Did you like the music?”  
“It was nice,” Will says, not wanting to admit that he’d like to know if they’ve recorded those songs. “Sorry I fell asleep,” he adds.  
“No, it’s good,” Parv chirps. “You looked like you needed it.”  
Will ignores the tackless comment, turning to see that the entire café is, in fact, empty and dark. There’s not even anyone behind the counter. Why is he still here?  
Parvis reads the confusion on his face and says, “The owner owes me a favour or two. I told her I’d close up and drop the keys off at her house.”  
“Why’d you do that?” Will frowns at him. “You could’ve just woken me.”  
Parv shrugs. “You looked so peaceful. It’s only a couple hours after closing time.”  
“A couple hours?” Will looks dismayed. A quick glance at his phone shows that it’s two in the morning and he really needs to get home.  
“Thanks for the drink,” Will says hurriedly, gathering his things and checking that thank god, it’s not raining anymore. There’s no one on the street, and he’s aware that he’s probably not going to be able to finish his report in time.  
“Shall I walk you home?” Parv asks with a grin.  
“No,” Will says firmly, giving him a glare. “It was nice to meet you.”  
He turns and leaves, ignoring the strange feeling he has. It doesn’t matter if he never sees Parvis again. His job is more important right now, and he doesn’t need to bother with a stranger who borrowed his umbrella.  
Will can’t help but wish it was still raining, so he’d have to walk Parv home.  


He finds he doesn’t really have much enthusiasm for his work anymore. He got an extension on the paper, and it’s been handed in as it should have been. Even so, the two weeks it’s been since his nap in the café have dragged, and he’s even gone back to the café twice to see if he can find Parvis - to no avail, it seems. The first time he went, the band wasn’t there, and the second time, they were supposed to be but had to cancel at the last moment.  
Will tells himself that he’ll go there today, and if Parvis isn’t there, he’ll give up and move on.  
“Strifey-kins!”  
It’s such an absurd addition to his name that Will can’t help but turn to look. Parvis almost topples into him, skidding to a stop just in time.  
“Can you walk me?” He asks breathlessly, grinning at Will. His guitar is slung over his back, with no danger of getting soaked by rain today, and Will can’t help but protest.  
“Parvis, no,” he says chidingly, thought he almost doesn’t want to.  
“Parvis yes,” Parv chimes, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the crowd, heading for a café that Will feels is going to become a second home.


End file.
